


drifting does not equal talking

by dragonQuill907



Series: unrestrained summer fun [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Drift Bond, Drift Compatibility, I guess???, Insecure Hermann, Insecure Newt, Kaiju attack, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Drift (Pacific Rim), Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), that's it folks! there's not much to it!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonQuill907/pseuds/dragonQuill907
Summary: That thought alone made his heart race — that Hermann loved him, had loved him for years, loved him deeper than anything Newt had ever felt before.Newt loved Hermann too. Of course he did. Loving Hermann was as natural to Newt as breathing, for fuck’s sake.But the thing about Newt was that no one ever stayed. No matter how many times they said they loved him, no matter how long they spent together, they always always always left him — and it was always, some way or another, his fault.Or: Newt and Hermann hold the world record for miscommunications between drift partners.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: unrestrained summer fun [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896451
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	drifting does not equal talking

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm back in university so the frequency of my posting fics might change in a certain direction (though I'm not quite sure if it'll be more or less). Anyway, this is part two of unrestrained summer fun, but you don't really need to read that to understand this. This is more of a "my beta reader really wanted a sequel and I had ideas" kinda deal.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There were two kaiju ripping their way through the streets of Hong Kong, where Newton had been sent to procure samples from a black market dealer, and all Hermann could do was sit at his desk and twiddle his thumbs and wait for Lady Danger’s victory. Then he could make his way to Newton, wherever he was, and stop him from doing something colossally stupid.

Hermann had been sent straight to voicemail when he called Newton as soon as Otachi and Leatherback had emerged. He tried to tell himself it was because Newton was in a kaiju shelter, safe underground, and not because he had been crushed underfoot or by falling debris.

The image of Newton lying limp and seizing on the cold lab floor had yet not left Hermann’s mind. After ages of going over those panicked moments with Newton in his arms, the realization hit him that if Newton had died, he would have died not knowing how Hermann felt about him.

Something about that — the idea that Newton might have died believing he was unloved, that he would not be missed or mourned or remembered — weighed heavy on Hermann’s mind.

If he had…  _ confessed _ his feelings sooner, well… 

No. Newton would always be Newton, and Newton would always choose the most exciting option, no matter the threat to his personal safety. Hence his eagerness to confront an infamous black market dealer in the middle of Hong Kong, even though the next kaiju attack had been predicted for, oh,  _ right now. _

But Newton wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t run headfirst into every half-baked idea he came up with. And Hermann wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t drop everything and drag Newton out of it, no matter how begrudgingly.

Hermann’s phone rang, jolting him out of his own head. He scrambled to get it out of his pocket and put it to his ear, expecting Newton’s high, scratchy voice. Instead, Karla greeted him, her voice thick and wet with tears.

_ “Hermann,”  _ she said, and Hermann winced at the sound,  _ “thank God. Thank God! Are you in the Shatterdome?” _

“Yes, yes, I’m all right,” Hermann replied. “Are the two of you–?”

_ “We’re okay, we’re fine, Vanessa’s at work but she’s heading home now. They let everyone out early since… It’s really bad, Hermann.” _

“Yes, I know.”

_ “There’s never been two of them before. Can your jaegers handle it?” _

“There’s supposed to be three.”

_ “Three?!” _

“A triple event. I checked the math eight times, Dr. Geiszler even went over it once or twice. He agreed. The math was right.”

_ “Animals aren’t math. They’re not predictable. It’s not your fault.” _

“No,” Hermann replied. “They’re not. Neither are humans, unfortunately.”

_ “What do you mean?” _

“Dr. Geiszler has drifted with a kaiju brain.”

_ “Dear God.” _

“He intends to do it again.”

_ “How did he even survive it the first time?” _

“By the skin of his teeth,” Hermann replied. Just as he opened his mouth to explain further, Pentecost was throwing open the doors to the lab, and Hermann shot to his feet, hurrying to salute. “Marshal, sir.”

“Go find Geiszler,” Pentecost ordered without preamble. “Make sure he hasn’t gotten himself killed yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

_ “Hermann? What’s going on?” _

Pentecost eyed Hermann’s cell phone but didn’t say anything. He marched out of the lab like a man on a mission — which, Hermann realized, he probably was. He put the phone back up to his ear and braced himself for the conversation he was about to have.

“Karla, I’m– I’m going to drift with Newton and the kaiju.”

_ “You what?! No, you can’t!” _

“I have to. It’s this or the fate of the world,” Hermann argued. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard. To his dismay, his voice broke not even halfway through his next sentence. “I can’t– I can’t let him die if I can help him, Karla. If this doesn’t work… I–”

_ “Please, Hermann. The PPDC needs you alive.” _

“Not to close the drift. They can do that on their own.”

_ “Well, maybe  _ I _ need you alive, you selfish selfless bastard! You’re  _ my _ brother,  _ I _ need you.” _

“If this doesn’t work,” Hermann repeated, voice stiff, “I need you to know that I love you. And, please, tell Vanessa I’m sorry I couldn’t reach her.”

_ “You bastard,” _ Karla hissed.  _ “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare do this, Hermann Gottlieb, or– or–” _

Hermann was ashamed to admit it, but he felt a certain sort of relief hanging up on his sister. Given enough time and energy, Karla could probably convince him of anything, no matter how caught up he was in his own head about it. He didn’t want to give her the chance this time.

He went out to find Newton.

Drifting was… not at all like Hermann had expected. 

He’d heard stories about it, of course. One often did, when living in a Shatterdome. Excited pilots recounted their first time drifting, embellishing here and there, of course, but where was a mystery. Hermann could read the stories in the bodies of veteran pilots, moving in tandem, a perfectly balanced push and pull of two minds in sync with each other.

Not to mention the countless authors and producers who had a fascination with the concept. Had Hermann not worked for the PPDC, he probably would’ve gobbled up every romance novel about unlikely drift partners in existence. Unfortunately for Hermann (or perhaps fortunately — the jury was still out on the quality of said novels), living and breathing nothing but kaiju for the last decade had pretty much put him off of the damn things, fictional or not.

Hermann had heard it romanticized for years. The complete and utter baring of one’s mind (thoughts, memories, emotions, and all) to another, being accepted as fully and totally as humanly possible. More than humanly possible.

He had to admit, it sounded rather nice. Mortifying, but… comforting, in a way, to have that sort of bond with another human.

What no one had bothered to tell him was how the damn thing felt  _ physically. _ The drift was initiated, and he coughed and spluttered like an idiot, trying to rid his sinuses of the uncomfortable pressure brought on by having Newton’s consciousness shoved into his head and vice versa. Like water shot directly up his nose. Horrible.

Newton, the bastard, seemed to be having a slightly better time of it. He grabbed Hermann’s hand in a show of comfort, and the pain slowly melted into memory. Newton’s memories, to be exact, and all the emotions attached to them.

Below all that, though, was the little pessimist in Hermann’s head screaming  _ you’re both going to die, you loon! _

And, well. That might have been true, but at least he would die next to Newton, trying to do the right thing.

He could sense Newton’s curiosity at the thought (always so curious, his Newton), could sense his focus shifting towards Hermann and not the kaiju, and, as flattering as that was, they really did have a job to do. 

At the same time, it was useless hiding anything from Newton. Once he caught a whiff of something interesting, he wouldn’t stop until he had captured it, dissected it, and written a groundbreaking thesis about it. Hermann could do without all that fanfare surrounding his own emotions, so he simply let them go.

They poured out of him like a dam had broken, and it was Newton’s turn to balk at the sensation. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, unconditional. Newton’s curiosity turned to shock and confusion, but Hermann couldn’t explain it better than he already had.

He tried not to think about the fact that there was nothing else there. No joy, excitement, warmth, nothing. Just disbelief and something suspiciously close to fear.

Then, in an instant, it was cold and blue and noise and violence and Hermann was ripped out of the drift, sick to his stomach. Newton was there, staring at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates and his mouth dropped open as Hermann’s lunch found its way into a (comically) conveniently placed toilet.

“What the fuck?” Newton asked.

Hermann wiped his mouth on his sleeve (disgusting but necessary) and stood to face Newton.

“It’s not going to work,” he said, gasping. “The bomb.”

He grabbed Newton’s arm and pulled him towards the helicopter that had landed, it seemed, in the midst of their drift. Newton followed obediently behind him.

“What the  _ fuck?” _

~*~

It had been more than a few days since Newt and Hermann drifted with a kaiju, and Newt hadn’t seen him once. He’d felt him, obviously, in the back of his mind, concern fluttering at the corners of his consciousness, but he’d even tried to snuff that out as best he could.

Newt wasn’t proud of it, but, well, yeah. He was avoiding Hermann. Could you blame him? The man had gone and stunned Newt with the fucking love confession of a century. And Newt — Well, Newt was blindsided, to say the fucking least.

Newt couldn’t get over the feeling. He lay awake thinking about it, staring at his ceiling and turning it over and over in his mind. He still felt it even now. It was like Hermann hadn’t turned off the tap, and all that  _ love _ was flooding his puny human brain.

That thought alone made his heart race — that Hermann loved him, had loved him for years, loved him deeper than anything Newt had ever felt before.

Newt loved Hermann too. Of  _ course _ he did. Loving Hermann was as natural to Newt as breathing, for fuck’s sake.

But the thing about Newt was that no one ever stayed. No matter how many times they said they loved him, no matter how long they spent together, they always always always left him — and it was always, some way or another, his fault.

Newt knew he was annoying as all hell, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to stop it. He was loud all the time and passionate about the wrong things. He was forgetful and thoughtless and tactless, and people got sick of things like that. Things that Hermann had already lectured him on, time and time again.

So Newt spent as much time as he could justify luxuriating in the feeling of being loved by Hermann before he had to go and pop the bubble of mutually-requited romance.

The only thing worse than being outright rejected would be watching Hermann leave just like everybody else. Like  _ hell _ was Newt gonna let that happen.

He'd just have to be the best damn boyfriend Hermann had ever had, and maybe Hermann wouldn't leave.

When Newt woke up the next morning, he was empty.

Well, not _empty_ per se, since he was still stuck with his own consciousness, but Hermann’s was markedly absent. Well, not _absent,_ but definitely closed off. Like, _on_ _purpose_ closed off. Newt tugged at the bonds connecting them but was met only with resistance. It was like a blank wall had been erected (hah) between his mind and Hermann’s, and it felt like everything Newt had been afraid of.

Newt jumped out of bed and began crafting what he quickly dubbed his  _ “Very Excellent and Romantic Love Confession (That Was Sure To Knock Hermann’s Socks Off).” _ Of course, he spent more time thinking of the title than anything else, and then he got caught up in being sad again, and then he poked at Hermann’s zipped-up consciousness with his own for a while, and by the time he was done with all that, he’d totally forgotten to actually come up with anything meaningful by the time he was dressed and out the door.

He hadn’t even bothered to shower, which, he realized about halfway to Hermann’s quarters, was probably a mistake, considering he still smelled, well, not entirely unlike Kaiju entrails. But if he turned around now, he’d never make it out of his room again, so he decided to say fuck it and knocked on Hermann’s door anyway.

Hermann answered with a little frown, one that only deepened when he saw Newt standing on his doorstep.

“Good morning, Dr. Geiszler. Is there something I can do for you?”

Newt would have winced at the formality, but he was barely paying attention. He couldn’t take his eyes off Hermann. His hair was mussed up on the side, like he hadn’t fixed it after he woke up, and he wore a bulky olive green sweater over a button-up rather than his usual eight layers. He was wearing socks, too, not his usual dress shoes. One of his dark eyes was rimmed in red, a perfect match to Newt’s. Unconsciously, Newt’s hand reached up to his own, rubbing at the delicate, bruised skin beneath his eye.

“Hey,” he said, like an idiot. “Uh, what’s up?”

Hermann’s frown turned into a full-out scowl, and he glared at Newt over the brim of his obnoxious old man glasses.

“Do you have a purpose in interrupting my packing, or are you here to procrastinate your own work?”

Newt suddenly jerked out of his own (admittedly very Hermann-related) thoughts to frown himself.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Don’t pretend you haven’t been itching to get out of this place for years.”

Newt shrugged. “I mean. I’ve got shit here.”  _ Like you, _ he wanted to scream.  _ Like you! Why do you think I turned down every transfer since 2020? _ He cleared his throat. “Paperwork, experiments, samples… all that good stuff, y’know?”

“How lucky for you,” Hermann muttered. His voice turned hard, and Newt almost flinched away from it. “Did you  _ need _ something from me, Dr. Geiszler?”

“Oh! Right. I wanted to, uh… talk,” Newt managed. “About our drift, I mean! We should probably… y’know. Talk about that.”

Hermann narrowed his eyes at Newt and scoffed. “Trust me, there’s nothing to discuss, Dr. Geiszler. You’ve made your opinion on the matter crystal clear.”

With that, Hermann made to close the door, but Newt’s body jerked forward to stop it. He ended up half inside Hermann’s quarters, craning his head to meet those dark, calculating eyes.

“Wait!” he cried. “Wait. I don’t think that’s… uh…”

Hermann recoiled at Newt’s proximity, and Newt froze.

During their time working together, Newt and Hermann had argued more than they hadn’t. They threw insults with deadly accuracy, aiming at everything from work to personality to fucking fashion sense. Newt needed extra hands to count how many times they’d advanced on each other, chests heaving, teeth bared, eyes narrowed. Newt had always felt in those moments that one step in the wrong (or right, depending on the day) direction would lead them straight to someone’s quarters and after that, hopefully, dinner.

But that didn’t happen this time.

Newt had surged forward, and Hermann staggered back. He seemed to recover quickly, though, because before Newt was able to apologize, he straightened out and sent Newt the harshest glare he’d ever received in his thirty-plus years of life.

“Dr. Geiszler, please. Are the dramatics necessary?”

“Um, yeah!” Newt replied, stepping further into the room. He closed the door behind him because he didn’t really care if Hermann wanted to throw him out or not. “Can we, I dunno,  _ talk _ about this, maybe? Pretty please?”

Hermann pursed his lips and, much to Newt’s relief, spat out a word of agreement.

Newt sighed, feeling the tension in his body recede just a little. Step One: Get Into Hermann’s Room was complete. Step Two: Talk To Hermann was about to commence.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for a few days,” Newt began. “I, uh. I needed some time to… to think about stuff. Y’know?”

“Oh, I know, Dr. Geiszler.”

Newt threw up his hands. “Cut the ‘Dr. Geiszler’ crap, man. What’s wrong with you?”

Finally, a reaction. Hermann scoffed and turned back to his bed, where an open suitcase lay half-packed and waiting. Without so much a glance in Newt’s direction, Hermann went back to folding his clothes.

“What’s wrong with  _ me,” _ he said to his sweater vest, tone dry. “You could have told me you didn’t want me instead of leaving me to figure it out for myself. I thought better of you,  _ Newton.” _

Newt just blinked, utterly shocked by Hermann’s first fucking words to him besides “fuck off.”

“Uh, when did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to. Avoiding me like the plague for four days made your point quite succinctly,” Hermann said. His voice was cold, detached, and Newt realized that he wasn’t just being a dick. He was trying to protect himself. From  _ Newt. _ Fuck. “To be honest, I didn’t expect any other outcome than this. Perhaps a bit less humiliating, but it seems the universe isn’t as kind as I’d hoped.”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to hurt you, man.”

Hermann shot him a level glare. His eyes were red-rimmed and a little wet, and Newt was dumbstruck. (He often was, around Hermann.)

“I know that,” Hermann said, voice dripping with condescension. “You’re much too good a man to mean it. Somehow that makes it worse.”

“I’m sorry, I– I didn’t want you to think like that. I was just–”

“Ignoring every text, call, and note I left you,” Hermann supplied. “I understand perfectly, Newton.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Okay, obviously you don’t, because that’s not even remotely what was going on, dude.”

“I’m sure.” Hermann’s folding was getting sloppier the angrier he got, so eventually he was just balling up his clothes and flinging them at his suitcase. “What did you think I would do, Newton? Did you think I would–  _ expect _ something from you, that I would–”

“No! Fucking listen to me for like–”

“That I wouldn’t respect you? Have I really given you that impression?”

“What are you even talking about? Just  _ listen,  _ that’s not it!”

“Then what  _ is _ it?” Hermann spat, finally turning back to Newt. “Why are you afraid?”

Newt gaped. Hermann went on before he could figure out what to say.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Hermann scoffed. He tapped the side of his head so pointedly Newt thought it might have hurt. “I’ve done my best to vacate your head, Dr. Geiszler, but you haven’t done me the same courtesy. I’ve spent the last four days wondering why I can’t feel anything from you but fear.”

“Jesus, Hermann, I’m not  _ afraid _ of you. You’re built like a stick figure, dude, I could totally take you.” Newt shook his head, scowling. He ran his hands through his hair, only a little grossed out by the grease in it. He really should’ve taken a shower. “Look, that– that’s not the point. It was just a lot, okay? It was a lot to process because I kinda thought you hated me but with everything that happened in the drift, I… Okay, I’ll admit I got a little freaked out, but it is  _ not _ because of what you think. You gotta believe me, man.”

Newt held his hands out pleadingly, giving Hermann what he hoped were his most effective puppy dog eyes ever. Hermann seemed to recognize that, and some of the tension in his body receded. His jaw finally unclenched, and his fingers loosened around his cane.

“Go on, then,” he said, and Newt felt like crying he was so relieved.

And then he felt like crying because he had never figured out what to say.

“Fuck,” he breathed. Hermann raised an eyebrow at him, but Newt shook his head. He took a deep breath and shook out all his excess energy through his hands. “Sorry, I’m– trying to think about how to say this.”

“That must be a first for you,” Hermann quipped, and Newt just smirked.

“Ha ha, you dick,” he said. “I’m trying my best here.”

“I know. Go on.”

Newt steeled himself and began to speak.

“So, the thing about, well, most of my relationships actually… is that they don’t last very long,” he said haltingly. He glanced up at Hermann, who was watching him intently. “And  _ I’m _ usually the one who gets fucked over, and– and, I don’t know, Hermann, it’s what I’m used to. Everyone gets sick of me or– or too annoyed with me, and I end up alone, and you already think I’m the most annoying person ever, you’ve said so yourself, and it’s not like I blame you, because I agree, I can be a lot sometimes, and–”

_ “Newton.  _ Breathe.”

Newt did as he was told. “Right,” he said. “Like right now.”

“It’s all right.”

“It’s– It’s not, dude! I can’t even talk,” he said. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I just wanna  _ tell _ you I think you’re the smartest guy I’ve ever met. And you’re the weirdest, too, but in, like, the best way possible. And you make me a better person and a way better scientist, and you’re totally hilarious, dude, you know that?” 

“Newton, I–”

“I guess the point is: I’ve been in love with you since, like, 2014, man. If I lose you, I think it’ll kill me. That’s why I’m afraid. All right?”

Hermann’s mouth was dropped open, and his eyes were wet, flicking over Newt’s face like he was an equation on a chalkboard. He stepped forward slowly, hand reaching out, and Newt instinctively moved forward.

“Newt, may I…?”

“Yeah, dude,” Newt replied, smiling softly at the nickname. “Anything.”

He sucked in a breath when Hermann’s fingertips grazed his cheekbone, tenderly prodding at the delicate skin around his red-rimmed eye. Newt was so focused on the feeling of Hermann being so goddamn gentle with him that he almost didn’t notice Hermann’s consciousness unzipping itself inside his head.

“Hermann, I…”

“Does it feel like a passing fancy?” Hermann asked, and Newt shook his head. “A ploy to get into your bed?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t  _ really _ mind that,” Newt laughed. “But no.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “I love you, you insufferable little man. I will not stop arguing with you, or trying to prove your theories wrong, or worrying about you, but I promise that I will not stop loving you either.”

“You can’t promise that, Herms.”

“I promise,” Hermann repeated. “I’ve loved you far too long to stop now.”

Hermann cupped Newt’s cheek with one hand and leaned on his cane with the other. It felt so nice that Newt closed his eyes. (It also made what he had to say next easier if he couldn’t see Hermann’s face while he said it.)

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I forgive you. I’m sorry too, for my part in this mess.”

Newt’s eyes snapped open only to narrow again. “It’s not your fault, dude, it’s totally on me.”

“I certainly didn’t make it any easier for you.”

Newt shrugged. “I can’t blame you.”

Hermann gave him a little smile, and Newt grinned. His gaze caught on Hermann’s mouth, and when he looked up, there was a blush high on the other man’s cheekbones.

“So…” Newt said, smirking, “if we’re in agreement, then…” He reached up and cupped Hermann’s jaw, bringing their lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss. It wasn’t his usual style, but he figured he’d let Hermann ease into it.

Apparently Hermann had other ideas. He followed after Newt as soon as he pulled away, leaning his weight against Newt’s sturdy form. The hand on his cheek turned into an arm around his shoulders, and his cane clattered to the floor as his other hand came to rest on Newt’s back. 

Newt startled but recovered quickly, wrapping an arm around Hermann’s waist. It wasn’t what he was expecting, but he  _ definitely  _ wasn’t complaining.

Kissing Hermann was better than Newt had ever imagined. They fit together like they were meant to, and god, wasn’t that cheesy? Newt couldn’t stop himself from grinning into the kiss and fucking it up. He pulled away chuckling, and Herman smiled down at him.

“Come to dinner with me,” he said.

“It’s, like, ten in the morning,” Newt laughed, “but yes. Absolutely.”

“Ah, yes. Right,” Hermann said. “Help me unpack, then?”

Newt grinned. “Changed your mind about leaving?”

“I’ve got a good reason to stay.” Hermann leant down and pressed a kiss to Newt’s cheek. “I love you, Newton.”

“I love you too. Dude, this totally rocks. I saved the world  _ and _ I got the guy.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you’re so pleased about it.”

“I am,” Newt replied. He pulled Hermann down for another kiss. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it.”

“I can see inside your head, Newt,” Hermann said with a smirk. “I’m aware.”

Newt flushed and pulled away. “Right. Well! We, uh, better get unpacking, right?”

Hermann smiled widely, and it was the most gorgeous thing Newt had ever seen. He ran his fingers through Newt’s hair and frowned.

“Yeah,” Newt agreed. “I’ll shower first.”

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Hermann said, more to himself than anything.

Newt just about fainted. “Right. Well, when I get back, I’ll be so clean you could eat off me,” he said with a wink.

Hermann flushed high on his cheekbones, and Newt couldn’t resist pressing his lips there in a little kiss.

Newt sauntered back to his room a new man. He couldn’t help but grin all the way down the hall, reveling in the warmth and tenderness and pure  _ love _ that ebbed and flowed through his connection to Hermann. Newt had always thought they operated on the same wavelength. It was nice to finally have some concrete proof.

Newt was a new man. A man in a relationship. A man with a drift partner. A man with his whole life ahead of him.

A man who really, truly, desperately needed to shower.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, leave a kudos or comment!! If not, leave one anyway!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! My pacrim sideblog is [kingeiszler!](https://www.kingeiszler.tumblr.com)


End file.
